A Familiar Face
by consultingsorcererof221B
Summary: A series of short stories in which the Amazing Spider-Man crosses paths with the Avengers. T rating just in case. No pairings. Will stay canon in the earlier chapters. *Adopted by FinallShadoww*
1. Chapter 1

**Just a short one in which Captain America first becomes aware of our friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. As you will soon see this is right at the beginning of Spidey's 'career'. Actually this is set before the battle with the lizard, I know they have a montage that makes it seem like everything happens really quickly but there are a number of things that suggest he's out there looking for his uncle's killer with the proper suit for several days before he meets the lizard**

**Right, going into nerd mode…**

**Also I know that TECHNICALLY Peter isn't called Spider-Man yet but give me some leeway people! It's an AU, I'm all for saying the press made up the name**

**Captain America:**

Steve Rogers wasn't used to modern day New York. Oh he was used to violence in general. He'd spent enough time on the battle field in his day...But the crime that was considered a normal part of life was something else entirely. Everybody in the city seemed to look the other way.

So when he heard the scream his first instinct was to race towards the source of the noise. Steve ran faster than any normal man was capable. He reached a turn, twisted before he hit a building and kicked off without losing any momentum. When he reached the scene of the commotion he found a man holding a knife to the throat of a young girl. His face was buried in his long, dirty blonde hair but Steve could see it was a white male, probably in his early thirties.

"You called?" a voice asked. Steve struggled to keep up with what happened next.

Evident relief washed over the woman's face while the man adopted a look of panic.

"Stay out of this, Spider," he warned and tightened his grip on the knife until his knuckles turned white. Steve followed his gaze and looked up to see a man in a full body red and blue suit sitting casually on the fire escape.

"Fine, let go of the girl and then we talk," he continued. His masked face turned fractionally in Steve's direction but he seemed to decide to focus on the man holding the knife.

The man seemed to hesitate, his hold on the knife loosening ever so slightly as he thought over his options. He licked his lips nervously and stared up at the man in the red and blue suit.

"I-I…I don't believe you," he said and shook his head quickly.

Steve would have said it was impossible for anybody to react as quickly as the man in red and blue.

When the man holding the knife shook his head for a split second he closed his eyes and the knife lowered away from the woman's throat. By the time Steve processed the man's subtle mistake the knife was attached to the side of a building with what looked like some sort of…web?

The knife-man had only just registered that his weapon was gone when the man in the red and blue suit crashed into him. No, crashed was the wrong word. It implied that the vigilante wasn't completely in control of the situation.

The man in the red and blue suit propelled himself towards the ground and twisted in mid-air to completely avoid the victim of the attack. When he hit the knife-man, he was perfectly angled. The man in the red and blue suit hit the knife-man and kicked away from him on impact so while the would-be-attacker stumbled backwards the man in the red and blue suit was performing a perfect somersault.

The knife-man hit the building and a bolt of the strange web-like substance secured him to the wall.

"Thank you, Spider-Man. Thank you so much," the woman said breathlessly. The man waved it off like it was nothing and bent down to pick something up off the ground. When he stood up Steve saw he was holding a handbag.

"This is yours I assume?" he asked. The woman nodded and he handed it to her. She pulled out her mobile and was dialling as she walked out of the side street, she didn't even notice Steve.

The man in the red and blue suit suddenly seemed sinister as he turned his attention back to the man secured to the wall. He reached forwards and pulled the sleeve of the man's jacket down to reveal a pale, bare wrist.

"It's your lucky day, apparently not mine," the man muttered as he turned away from the attacker.

Steve watched in a mixture of confusion and admiration as the man latched onto the side of a building and began to climb, effortlessly pulling himself ever higher while he seemingly defied physics by gripping the flat surface with his fingertips.

Steve stood for a moment then heard sirens in the distance and walked back the way he'd come, too deep in thought to really take in anything around him. What was it the woman had called him? Maybe he could search him on the…internet? Wasn't that what normal people did?

Steve unlocked the door to his apartment, almost working on autopilot, and sat down in his favourite armchair. It was old fashioned, a little shabby maybe but still good. He reached across the table next to him and picked up his sketchbook without thinking. The image was still fresh in his mind, red and blue with a criss-crossing black…web spread across the entire costume. Then on his back the clear red image against the blue.

Then he remembered what the woman had called him.

Spider-Man

**I know, I know, I shouldn't be starting any new series but I just thought I'd take it slow with this one. I love writing Spider-Man stuff, I wrote this when I was pretty tired so I hope it makes sense.**

**I also hope you enjoyed and will consider leaving a review! I'd love to hear what you thought of this**


	2. Hawkeye

**Second chapter in the series! I was surprised by the amount of positive feedback but hey, you guys want more so here it is! I'm just sorry it took so long**

Hawkeye:

Clint was many things and happy was not one of them.

For starters he was tired…and by that I mean most people would have collapsed from exhaustion by now. But of course, Clint was no ordinary person. He was an agent of SHIELD, a top rate marksman and a master assassin. At some point in his not too distant future he will fight alongside Earth's Mightiest Heroes and help save the world from the alien threat known as the Chitauri but that is a very different story. One I would imagine most of you know off by heart.

So back to _this_ story, Clint had every right to be tired. He'd been up for twenty six hours straight and he would vouch for me when I say that it had been a very _long_ twenty six hours. A terrorist group had somehow managed to get hold of a few top secret diagrams from the SHIELD database. So of course Director Fury had called Clint and told him to get it back, whatever the cost.

Now Clint wasn't naïve enough to expect a welcome back party or even a thank you when he returned from the mission with the plans in his hand and a civilian casualty count of zero. What he did expect was the night off so he could go and crash in some rundown motel for a few hours.

Instead he was told to immediately head to the loading bay where they would get him up to date on the latest catastrophe threatening the city. When he arrived he discovered that there was in fact a giant mutant lizard trying to release some sort of toxin that turned everybody effected into, you guessed it, giant mutant lizards.

You can imagine his relief when they arrived and discovered that a mysterious super-powered vigilante had put a stop to it first. Sure, Fury was pissed off that nobody seemed to know anything about the guy but Clint felt like he could hug the masked man. So what if he liked stringing up criminals for the cops to arrest?

Clint whistled as he walked down the empty street without a care in the world. The motel was around two minutes away, two minutes and he'd be able to get some well-earned rest.

He stopped abruptly when he heard the hiss of pain coming from somewhere on his right. Clint hesitated, it could just be some homeless person that stubbed their toe or something. There was nothing to say that anybody was seriously injured. He should just keep going, they'd be fine.

_Drip_

Clint froze and turned towards the alley. The street light behind him lit up the concrete beneath his feet, illuminating the dark red smears.

_Drip_

His eyes followed the fresh trail, across the ground, up that wall and all the way to the red and blue figure clinging to the brick wall with his fingertips.

_Drip_

The drop of blood fell from the masked figure and landed in the growing puddle on the ground.

"You gonna call the cops?" he stuttered through ragged breaths. Clint thought about that for a moment before he let out a sigh.

_Drip_

"Nah, did the lizard do that to you?" Clint asked and pulled the bag from over his shoulder.

"Mostly…bullet wound in my leg was the cops," he groaned. His grip faltered for a moment and he slid several inches down the wall, dragging smears of blood across the brick.

_Drip, Drip, Drip_

"Can you get down?" Clint asked carefully.

"I-I think so…why?" the man asked.

"I can stitch up and bandage a few of your wounds. You're lucky you caught me when you did," Clint explained and pulled out a first aid kit. Spider-Man carefully climbed down the wall, doing his best not to cry out every time he moved. When he got down to street level Clint realised how injured he really was. His mask was practically the only part of his costume that seemed fully intact.

Clint whistled through his teeth, "I guess he really threw you around the place."

"Yeah well, I got a few good shots in myself," he grunted.

He didn't say much else as Clint did his best to sew up the bullet wound. The man winced slightly every time the needle pierced his skin but he didn't complain. Fortunately the bullet passed straight through his leg, narrowly missing bone.

After that Clint did his best to remove all of the fragments of plastic and metal that were imbedded in the man's wrists. Once again not a complaint was heard.

When Clint was finished he packed up the first aid kit and Spider-Man just sat on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His ribs weren't broken but a few of them were cracked, Clint could empathise.

"Why did you help me?" Spider-Man finally asked. Clint pondered that for a moment.

"Gratitude," he finally answered.

**Just a short one, again I wrote this late at night so I don't know how much sense it makes but you all seemed to love the last chapter. Seriously, 47 follows for a oneshot I wrote at midnight? I guess my readers always catch me by surprise.**

**Let me know if you enjoyed and what Avenger you think he should meet up with next and how!**


	3. Coulson

**Sorry this took me a while, I had a lot of recommendations to think about before deciding on my timeline**

**I figured this is my last opportunity to have the Spider meet Coulson since according to our timeline, the Avengers is approaching. Now, in terms of WHEN Coulson is visiting…**

**In the Avengers Coulson recruits Tony Stark sometime pretty late at night since it looks like it's either late spring or early autumn seasonal wise and the next time he's seen, he's escorting Captain America at what appears to be somewhere around mid-day giving him plenty of time to take place in this fanfiction.**

**Okay I realise that makes me sound like a completely obsessive fan who overthinks everything but really I'm just observant and have a really good memory that allows me to plan things like this out in my head without going back to consult the movie.**

**Also I have plans concerning Mr Stark so I would appreciate it if you guys would suggest OTHER characters and if any of you want me to introduce them in specific ways, do you guys want me to include Spidey in any of the other movies (got plans concerning the Avengers and I'm ignoring AOU for the time being so OTHER movies). Also I have plans concerning Bruce Banner so yeah. Other characters.**

**Coulson:**

Peter knew it wasn't an accident or a mistake the moment he stepped inside the bank vault. Instead of the armed robbers he'd expected, there waiting for him was a man in a nice suit with a metal briefcase in his hand. It was a set up. Peter spun around in time to see the vault slam shut behind him, sealing off his exit.

"Hello, Spider-Man. My name is Agent Coulson," the man at the other end of the room said calmly. There was an oddly…cheerful note in his voice. Not in the 'I just kidnapped my arch enemy and now I'm going to murder him' kind of way. It was more of the 'I just heard a great song on the radio' kind of way.

Peter turned slowly, eyes taking in every inch of the room. The faint ringing in his ear told him to be cautious but he wasn't in any immediate danger.

"I'm gonna assume you're not a bank robber then," Peter said flatly. The man, Agent Coulson, cracked a smile.

"Not exactly, I apologise for going to such extremes but you're not an easy man to pin down," Coulson said as if they'd known each other for years.

"What do you want?" Peter asked. The casual atmosphere was putting him on edge.

"I'm here on behalf of a government agency called SHIELD. I doubt you've heard of us but we take care of the…more unusual threats," he explained.

"Threats…You think I'm a threat? I mean yeah technically speaking I work outside of the law but I thought this whole thing was sorted out. I got a legal pardon and the cops aren't allowed to shoot me on sight anymore and all of that good stuff!" Peter said, pushing down the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"If we thought you were a threat we would have put more effort into finding you. As it is, we thought you'd react better if we let you make your own decision," Coulson replied as if that answered everything.

"Uh huh," Peter said and rolled his eyes beneath his mask. Was the man drawing their conversation out on purpose?

"We want you to come and work with us."

Wait…What?

"You want me to work for you…What, you got an unexpected job opening and you just thought  
_Hey, why don't we ask the local vigilante_? Seriously? I was the best you could come up with?" Peter asked, thankful that his mask hid his no doubt perplexed expression.

"A man stole an energy source capable of cracking this world open like a hardboiled egg," Coulson said without skipping a beat. THAT got Peter's attention. He paused before replying carefully.

"What do you mean exactly by work?" he asked slowly.

"We have people working on tracking him down, we just need more man power. The man has certain…abilities. Strength and durability to name a few, should you agree we'll fill in all of the details," Coulson continued. He stayed calm, he didn't jump at the fact that Peter was considering their proposal.

"And what would I have to…do?" Peter continued. His spidey sense told him he could trust this Coulson guy but that was no reason to proceed without caution.

"Well…You'd have to reveal your identity to us fo-"

"No," Peter said immediately.

"We're a top secret government agency. We're capable of keeping secrets-"

"No."

"We could-"

"No."

"Try to understand that we can't just-"

"If I have to reveal who I really am I want no part in this," Peter replied flatly.

"Even if it puts our whole world at risk?" Coulson asked. He wasn't challenging, his voice didn't even waver. He was still completely calm as if discussing the fate of the world was normal…Then again…

"You said you had other people working on it. I'm sure they're more qualified than I am to catch this nut job," Peter said firmly.

"We're asking everybody we can to help us catch this guy before the situation escalates."

"If you've got others on this then why do you need me?!"

Coulson paused for a moment and Peter waited for him to make a move. He waited for an army to barge in with tranquilisers or for the man to pull out a gun…but nothing happened. The man seemed disappointed if anything.

"I can see that this isn't going to work," Coulson said almost…sadly? As if by some unspoken command the vault door opened but there was nobody waiting for him outside, just the empty bank.

Peter edged forward but hesitated.

"I'm sorry…There are people close to me that could get hurt. If something happened to them because of what I do…" Peter shuddered at the thought of someone trying to get to him through Aunt May or Gwen or any of the other people he interacted with on a daily basis. If his secret got out they'd all be at risk. He couldn't let the people around him pay for his actions.

"It's clear that you're doing this for the right reasons. That's one of the reasons we're keeping our distance. We've made an effort to avoid getting on your bad side," Coulson said. Peter wasn't entirely sure what to make of that statement.

"My point is so long as you keep on our good side, we'll keep on yours. Keep being one of the good guys and we'll have to reason to get involved…If you change your mind about working with us, get in touch. You'd be a valuable asset," Coulson said with a note of finality in his voice.

The man walked straight past Peter without even glancing at him and left the suddenly empty bank vault. Confused, Peter thought over what he'd said. Get in touch? How was he supposed to-

Lying on the floor of the vault in the exact spot Coulson had been standing was the metal briefcase.

Oh.

Peter cautiously approached the case but it seemed pretty harmless. It didn't appear to have built in lasers or anything like that. He stood there for a moment, unwilling to interact with the object left by the mysterious agent of SHIELD but in the end his curiosity got the best of him.

He found it didn't have any fancy security measures in place, just a simple latch. When he opened it he found, lying there in the middle of the case, a business card.

_Simon's Car, Rent and Repair _

There was a logo and a number at the bottom. Peter flipped it over in his hands and found an address printed on the back along with the words 'We're Open 24/7!'

And I thought this day couldn't get any weirder

**I don't know if the end makes sense, I just finished it and I wanted to get it up quickly…So there ya go. I hope you enjoyed.**


	4. Hulk

**You guys this support is INSANE! I'm getting like an extra 20+ followers every time I upload a chapter! I can't believe you all like these so much…**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it as much as the others**

**Also I dedicate this chapter to Zharlee for helping me come up with new ideas for both past and future chapters**

**Also, this one is set a week after the Avengers but long before the events of TASM 2**

**Hulk:**

I suppose you could say that Bruce was having one of _those_ days. The ones that make you feel like the world is screwing with you for the sake of pissing you off.

His day started off alright. He woke up at exactly five am. He did his breathing exercises, as always he focused on the techniques used to slow the heart rate and that lasted for maybe an hour. After that he got showered and dressed…the god of good fortune must have left for a coffee break at that point though because that's when things started going wrong. Long story short the robot that normally sorts out all of Tony's food had a bit of a malfunction so Bruce accidentally poured sour milk into his cereal. Once he'd finished scraping the fowl smelling clumps into the bin (he came close to throwing up at that point) he had to wait almost twenty minutes before he felt like he could stomach something without it coming right back up.

Still, he told himself. It could be worse.

Of course Clint had finished off the frosted flakes which left him with two choices. He could steal some of Steve's weird shredded wheat cereal that tasted like cardboard or he could go out for breakfast.

Guess what Bruce decided to do?

Bruce had to drive around for almost an hour looking for a place that was still open after 'The Invasion'. Most places had closed until they could fix the damage inflicted to the building meaning the construction companies were completely swamped with work.

According to the news it would probably take months, even years before things could begin to return to normal. A week had passed and already everybody was sick of it. Of course Bruce had lived in countries without running water, let alone supermarkets with entire isles devoted to cereal so he was doing alright.

After finding a suitable place to eat he ended up waiting for another hour just to get a table since the place was full and when he was finally served he found the food a little undercooked.

Still, he told himself. It could be worse.

He drove around for a while longer, killing time before he had to go back to the practically empty tower. Tony was taking a 'well-earned vacation' with Pepper in Greece, Natasha was on a mission, Clint was staying at the tower until an assignment came up but he spent most of his time hanging around at the SHIELD training facility so Bruce normally only saw him in the late evenings.

Then there was Steve…Bruce wasn't entirely sure what the situation with Steve was. The guy got up at the crack of dawn every morning, did a series of morning 'wake up exercises' that would leave any other man completely exhausted. Then he ate his disgustingly bland cereal and left. As far as Bruce could tell he normally went for a run at some point every day but other than that the man's daily routine was anyone's guess. He had a modest apartment that SHIELD paid for but that was about it. There wasn't a hell of a lot to the mysterious super solider.

That left Thor…Well he'd returned to his sky palace with Loki and the Tesseract and they'd heard nothing from him since. Nobody knew when he'd return…if he'd return.

Bruce's motorbike made an unhealthy gurgling noise and slowed to a crawl. It gave a rattling whine as it was steered towards the curb. He mentally cursed but forced himself to stay calm.

Still, he told himself. It could be worse.

He moved to pull out the Stark Phone Tony had insisted on giving him but after years of avoiding phones, if absolutely necessary keeping one in his possession for no more than a few days…It wasn't a habit he could easily drop. Worse still the sky line was threatening to swallow the sun completely, leaving him in the darkness of night while stranded in a part of town that could be described as anything _but_ friendly.

Unwilling to leave his bike, he tried to fix it himself but it soon became clear that he didn't have the necessary equipment. Reluctantly he came to terms with the fact that he'd probably never see his motorcycle again and started walking in the general direction of the tower. He had his wallet on him at least. Maybe he could hail a cab?

He turned onto an empty street and continued walking for maybe ten minutes, doing his best to continue heading in the same general direction of the tower but it had been years since he'd spent any time in New York. He considered turning back but he wasn't sure that he would be able to accurately retrace his steps.

Bruce turned onto a side street but found his way blocked.

Five guys, strong builds, late twenties.

Bruce turned to go back the way he'd come but tripped over something in the steadily growing shadows. He regained his footing but managed to make enough noise to alert the group that he was there.

_Great job there, Bruce,_ he said to himself. There was an audible _shweeek_ as someone unfolded a switchblade.

"You wanna empty your pockets about now?" somebody asked. Bruce turned to face the still advancing group. One was smiling with stained teeth, knife all too comfortable in his hand. As he drew closer Bruce caught the distinctive whiff of alcohol. They weren't flat out drunk although a couple of them swayed slightly, they'd had just enough to drink that it would cloud their judgement and slow their reflexes.

Bruce was still outnumbered by people who were clearly stronger than he was. He supposed he could run but he didn't know the neighbourhood, just wandering through side streets had led him into several dead ends. If that happened while he was running for his life?

Besides, his heart rate was already faster than normal. The last thing he needed was for the other guy to make an appearance.

Bruce pulled out his wallet and tossed it towards them. Somebody picked it up and started sifting through its contents.

"No credit cards, no phone?" one of them listed in disbelief.

"That's all I have," Bruce said steadily but his heart was thumping in his chest. He _needed_ to calm down and fast.

"Now why don't we all give the guy a little space? He's looking a little green," a voice said from…above them?

Before anybody could react a flash of red and blue landed behind the man holding the knife. Suddenly the mugger found the weapon had been yanked from his hand. The red and blue blur grabbed the man's shoulders and threw him into the nearest person who had barely registered what was happening.

A man with a greyish hoodie came up behind the red and blue blur, a switchblade in hand, but when he moved to attack the man in red and blue easily sidestepped, despite the fact that there was no way he could have been able to see the attack coming.

By this point Bruce had identified the man in red and blue. After all, everybody had heard about New York's friendly neighbourhood vigilante.

Spider-Man grabbed the wrist of the man in the grey hoodie and twisted until the knife fell from his hand. Before the man could cry out the vigilante sent an elbow into his stomach. The man's eyes bulged before he collapsed. Before the man's unconscious body had hit the floor, Spider-Man had moved onto his next target.

He kicked out the legs of a man with short stubby hair and a knee to the back of the head later the man was unconscious.

Despite showing an impressive amount of strength it was clear from the beginning that he was holding back. He rendered the men unconscious with, albeit painful but recoverable injuries.

The last man came at him from behind but Spider-Man turned at the last moment and secured him to a wall with a spurt of webbing. He gripped the man's head and slammed it against the wall with precisely the right amount of force. The man reeled before collapsing completely, held partially upright by the webbing that still secured his hand in place.

It suddenly occurred to Bruce that he probably should have run while everybody was distracted.

"You alright?" Spider-Man asked as he stopped to pick something up off the ground. It wasn't until he straightened up that Bruce saw he was holding a wallet.

"Mr…Banner?" the vigilante asked after briefly glancing at the driver's license SHIELD had supplied after they gave him a new social security number. Same name, despite their recommendations, but nothing to tie him to the scientist that had supposedly died years before.

Bruce didn't say anything and instead watched as Spider-Man picked up the cash that the muggers had dropped in the fight. To his surprise, the vigilante simply sorted the notes into a neat pile and returned it to the wallet.

"Here," Spider-Man said as he held out the wallet. Bruce hesitated.

"Look I know that a lot of people have been talking about me lately, I can't tell you how many times somebody has called me a masked menace or told me that I've got no right to 'take responsibility and interfere with the fine work the NYPD do in this city'. But it's been a long week and right now all I really want to do is finish up out here tonight so please skip the criticism and take the wallet," the vigilante said with a tired sigh.

Bruce took the wallet and frowned.

"Actually I was just going to say thanks."

Spider-Man seemed genuinely surprised although it was difficult to tell since he was wearing a mask.

"Huh…I don't actually hear that word too often. _Especially_ after the whole 'alien invasion thing', a lot of people seem to think that now the Avengers are around, New York doesn't need a vigilante anymore. I guess criticism comes with the territory," the man said. Bruce got the feeling that he was smiling beneath the mask but it was impossible to tell.

"I don't suppose you know where I can hail a cab do you?" Bruce asked a little awkwardly.

"You a tourist?" Spider-Man asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Um…something like that," Bruce admitted. He wasn't entirely sure w_hat_ he was or how long he'd be staying.

"Well…You came at a pretty bad time of year but I hope you enjoy the sites. The statue of liberty and everything is fine as far as I know. Anyway, there are normally a couple of cabs hanging around a street not far from here. I can walk you there if you want. It's been a fairly slow day as these things go. Then again it'll probably pick up in a few hours. Most people wait until it's really dark before trying anything," Spider-Man explained.

So the vigilante walked him through a few side streets until they were staring at the busy road. Despite the fact that it was getting late there were plenty of cars and people walking around.

They didn't exactly strike up a conversation but Spider-Man's mood seemed to have greatly improved.

"I've got to be quick. People might start throwing eggs again or something," the vigilante muttered. Bruce glanced at him in surprise.

"People threw eggs at you?"

"Oh they tried," Spider-Man replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before Bruce could so much as blink the vigilante had sprinted towards the road. There was an audible yell of surprise from one of the pedestrians nearby but Spider-Man paid no attention.

He effortlessly shot an impossibly perfectly angled web that latched onto the side of a building. His momentum pulled him into the air and he turned sharply, releasing the web a split second before shooting off another one.

Bruce stepped into the street and watched Spider-Man swing away, performing perfectly executed flips from time to time. As if travelling by web didn't seem difficult enough.

Bruce hailed a cab without really thinking and told the driver to take him to Stark Tower. For the rest of the journey he thought about his all in all crappy day.

Still, he told himself. It could be worse.

**I'm not especially happy with this chapter but I hope you all enjoyed it regardless!**

**I also made this an extra-long one for you all as a massive thank you since we just recently reached over 100 followers!**

**Again the support here is amazing! You guys are insane! Thanks to everybody that has decided to follow this story and all of the (surprisingly) many people that have favourited this fic!**

**Drop a review if it's not too much trouble, it's always greatly appreciated and motivates me to write more for you guys**


	5. Hawkeye's Return Pt 1

**I can't stress enough how big a help Zharlee has been throughout this series, thanks again!**

**Now, enough of my boring A/N, HERE'S what you've all been waiting for:**

**Hawkeye:**

Peter got the overwhelming sense of Deja-vu as he stood in the darkened alley, carefully watching the man in the expensive looking suit (the kind you wear with a tie, not a mask). He looked out of place amongst the things that are best not looked at too closely and the shattered bottles that littered the ground.

"So let me guess, there's not a drunk guy with a gun to some girl's head back here?" Peter stated with a sigh.

"SHIELD has requested your assistance," the man said.

The first thing Peter noticed was that the man wasn't quite up to Coulson's standards. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other after a brief moment of silence and seemed to be unsure of where to look. He wasn't experienced.

"I thought we went through this already? I don't want to give up my identity and you're all cool with leaving me alone so long as I don't give you lot a reason to step in," Peter said, carefully watching the agent's reaction. It was clear that they hadn't told him much about the situation.

"The…uh…Director Fury says it's not a long term thing. He just wanted me to inform you that he's requested a meeting at our…um…base of operations. Oh and we have a car waiting for you," the agent said with as much authority as his stuttering self could muster.

Peter raised a hidden eyebrow beneath his mask and tried to supress the laughter that threatened to spill through his lips at the thought of the nervous and uncertain man before him working for a top rate government agency.

"This 'Director Fury' wants me to get in a car that's going to drive me to an unknown location so I can have a meeting with a man I've never met concerning an unknown subject?" Peter asked. The agent shifted nervously again.

"He just wanted me to tell you that a lot of lives could be depending on this."

Peter thought through the choices set before him. He'd done some research into 'SHIELD'. There wasn't a hell of a lot to go on but he bypassed a few firewalls and read a few…let's say restricted files. He would have dug deeper but his computer simply wasn't powerful enough for him to hack into top security government files. He knew it existed, as far as he could tell everything Agent Coulson had told him was true but the extent of his knowledge ended about there.

In the end his curiosity got the best of him.

xxx

Peter felt…uncomfortable to put it lightly. He was sitting in the back of a black limo with tinted one way windows and heated leather seats. Need I remind you that he was wearing a skin tight red and blue spandex suit at the time?

Not to mention the fact that the car probably cost more than his house…

Speaking of which, he needed to sell that last batch of photographs he'd taken. If he could cover the bills that month then maybe he could finally convince Aunt May to visit a damn doctor about her heart. She'd had problems with it before but the symptoms seemed to be more prominent than before. Although she never came straight out and said it, he knew she kept putting it off partially because she couldn't spare the money.

Lately Aunt May was always either working extra shifts at the hospital or sorting through the seemingly endless pile of bills that littered the dining room table.

Peter was pulled from his thoughts when the car pulled to a stop. He gladly left the posh interior for the, slightly grimy looking, streets of New York.

Immediately there was an agent at his side, their hand inching towards the carefully concealed gun held securely in a holster on his hip. Peter had glimpsed it when the man stepped out of the limo.

When they stepped inside the clean and modern looking building two more agents melted out of the shadows. The agent from the car took the lead while the other two followed at Peter's heel.

They walked through a seemingly endless maze of hallways, at first most of them were full of people but as they continued their little adventure the number of people they came across became fewer and fewer until the hallways were void of all life and the only sounds that could be hear were their own footsteps.

Among the people they came across, most were clearly agents. From the tight but stretchy clothing that allowed free movement to the way they held themselves when they walked, the signs couldn't be clearer to someone who just so happened to have enhanced observation skills.

But amongst the crowds of trained professionals one could find the distinctive white coat of a scientist or one of the many secretaries that worked hard to maintain the complex system that processed mission reports and financials and, on occasion, they would be tasked with one of the most difficult jobs that SHIELD had to offer. They would have to try and use the overly complex coffee maker that, when used incorrectly, would ensnare unsuspecting loose sleeves and stray hairs in its merciless jaws.

On a separate note, Peter couldn't be sure but he could have sworn that he saw the original agent he'd met with breathing into a paper bag through a partially closed door.

Several key card swipes and a few passcode prompts later they were waiting for the elevator to react to their call.

To Peter's surprise, his agent escorts did not follow him inside. Instead they took a step away from the rapidly closing doors and left Peter in near silence with only the quiet hum of the elevator to keep him company…Well, that and the faint prickling like pins and needles at the base of his skull that somehow translated to the knowledge that he was being watched.

At least there wasn't any cheesy elevator music.

The doors opened and Peter hesitated for a brief moment before stepping into the brightly lit room. It was wide and long with a large screen on the back wall that showed the standard SHIELD logo. And sitting at a desk was, who he could only assume was, Director Fury.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.

The man appeared to be wearing a leather jacket for one, sure it was the long kind you see the guys in the Matrix movies wearing but…it was still a leather jacket. Even more startling than that were his eyes- I mean, eye.

Even from a distance Peter could see the black tendrils peeking out from behind the eye patch. He didn't need a sixth sense to get the idea that _that_ was more than just a common accident.

"We need your help," Director Fury said.

_To be continued…_

**Want more? REVIEW PEOPLE!**


	6. Hawkeye's Return Pt 2

**I guess I should start this off by saying that the last chapter was NOT named 'Hawkeye's Return Pt. 1' by accident as many of you assumed (and we all know what they say about people who assume things!). Actually it was never meant to be a multiple part series but the first chapter turned into a thousand words in the blink of an eye so I decided that, instead of leaving you hanging for longer, I'd turn it into a 'part thing'. Now of course that means I honestly don't know how long this will end up being.**

**Anyway, onto the actual Hawkeye part of this multiple-chapters-that-form-a-mini-series-in-a-mini-series-of-theoretically-individual-chapters/stories/oneshots-but-will-probably-end-up-joining-together-at-some-point-and-will-then-go-who-the-heck-knows-where**

**Hawkeye's Return Pt. 2:**

SHIELD was very into the whole 'partner' thing. In hindsight it probably encouraged new recruits to disguise their emotions around everybody, even those they trust because people who expressed hatred or even mild dislike towards one another had a nasty habit of getting paired up together. Sure it meant that you had to learn to work with anyone, even people you don't get on with.

In hindsight it was probably a good thing, at the time it was a pain in the-

Point is Clint was used to working with a partner when he went on missions. Often SHIELD paired him with people he worked well with or knew well. Sometimes of course circumstances would pair him with people he didn't get on with quite as well but for the most part Clint ended up with people he barely knew. He was okay with that.

Clint was, however, impatient to find out who he'd been paired up with this time. He could only hope that it wasn't Jeremy again. I mean sure the kid had his uses but he just wouldn't stop _fidgeting_. Last time he was on a stakeout with the guy…Well let's just say that Jeremy would have to learn to duck a little faster next time if he didn't want another arrow clipping his ear.

Clint shook his head slightly in an attempt to clear his thoughts. No matter how much time and energy he put into coming up with theories, it wouldn't give him answers. So instead he turned his thoughts to the mission.

As recent investigations had uncovered, an underground organisation had been gathering and experimenting with alien tech salvaged from the 'Battle of New York' as it had become known. Either SHIELD didn't know what the organisation had been trying to accomplish or it was above Clint's paygrade, either way he didn't know. He could only assume they'd been attempting to create weapons.

Whether or not they'd succeeded was a different matter entirely.

Anyway, the SHIELD technical department had by chance picked up an incredibly brief spike of gamma radiation. They'd cross examined the results and there was no denying that it came from Chitauri technology. Unfortunately homing into the exact position was proving difficult.

Still, at least the spike was located in the ocean. How many boats can there be out there right? This should be a piece of cake.

WRONG!

Take into account the fact that the 'estimated area' was over a twenty mile radius and there were fifty three confirmed vessels that could have held the Chitauri weaponry.

You understand why they called in for a little extra help yet?

Of course SHIELD had plenty of agents at their disposal but this…This was different. They needed it done quick and clean and in some cases, _quietly_.

Basically seven of the boats were either at or nearing a harbour of sorts and were preparing to unload whatever it is they had on board. Those were easier for SHIELD to take control of. They could easily have a dozen agents standing by while a small team sneak onto the boat while everybody is distracted and scan for trace signatures of gamma radiation.

Simple!

The other forty six vessels out in open water however…

The idea was simple, intercept the vessels that would be docking before the night was done when they reached land and check the ones still out there before the night was over.

Simple! Yeah…except for the part where, by their calculations, only five of the forty six vessels would be docking.

Onto the plan concerning the other forty one!

SHIELD didn't want to tip off the smugglers and alert them to the fact that there would be a government official coming to investigate. There was too great a risk that they'd somehow hide or dispose of the alien tech, so a stealth mission then.

They had small aircraft that wouldn't be picked up by radar or any of the other scanners that might be on the ship and they'd fly when it got dark so nobody would see them. From there they would be lowered onto the deck with a few scanners and search the ship. If they came up empty handed then they'd call the aircraft back and leave, nobody would ever know they'd been there.

And if they found the ship…Well it wasn't exactly likely given the statistics that Clint would end up on the one vessel smuggling alien tech. Then again with his luck…Maybe he should read the protocols again just to be sure.

Clint suddenly looked up as the door to his cabin slid open. He was immediately on his feet and made a conscious effort to stand a little straighter. It wasn't every day that Director Fury made a house call.

"Agent Barton," Fury said with a nod. It was his equivalent of a greeting and Clint knew it so he returned the nod and waited.

"No doubt word has gotten around by now that SHIELD has established an alliance of sorts with the vigilante known as Spider-Man," Fury stated bluntly.

Well, yeah Clint had heard the rumours but it was one thing to overhear people in the science department trade gossip over coffee in the break room, it was another to hear the Director of SHIELD confirm those rumours in person.

"Well I heard…bits and pieces," Clint admitted and tried to resist the urge to look away. He was one of SHIELD's top agents. He could face his boss without feeling guilty.

Even if he did let his guard down and almost cost billions of people their lives while the planet fell under the control of an alien race-

Not his fault. He could do this.

To his surprise Fury gave a sort of half-hearted chuckle.

"With the amount of spies we have working for us I think it'd be a cause for concern if word didn't get around."

Clint felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a smile. It was quickly replaced by a confused frown.

"Spider-Man will be working with you when you go to search some of the boats tonight," Fury said. His expression did not change in the slightest. If he was amused by Clint's reaction there was no way of knowing it.

"But sir-" Clint began.

"This isn't up for discussion Agent Barton," Fury said firmly. Clint paused for a moment to compose himself. When he nodded stiffly his face was a void of emotion.

"Will I receive a profile report before meeting him?" Clint asked calmly. Fury seemed to consider that for a moment, or perhaps it was a well concealed hesitation. You could never tell with spies.

"All information on Spider-Man is classified. Remember, you're boarding aircraft nine at 1900. Don't be late," Fury said before exiting swiftly.

Clint exhaled slowly then sat down again on the edge of his bed.

He was going to be working with Spider-Man, the New York vigilante…or at least the most popular one. The 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen' was still fairly low key all things considering.

Sure, Clint had been paired up with people who were basically strangers before but this was _different_. All SHIELD agents had the same basic story. Sure the beginning varied a little bit but after you join the Academy original stories become less and less common. There's training, tests, training, betrayal, training, practice runs, training, a few double crosses, tests, training and more betrayal. SHIELD never liked making it easy to trust anybody, even in the early years.

Sure there were always exceptions, like Natasha. People who never went to the Academy, but they all trained somewhere and deep down all training facilities are the same.

But this guy…he was _different_. Sure he had the training but he also had mysterious superhuman powers that nobody could explain. Of course that was becoming more and more common but the difference with Spider-Man was nobody _knew_ anything.

Let's say, for instance, the guy had trained as an assassin like hundreds before him. Maybe the people teaching him saw potential or maybe they picked names out of a hat, for whatever reason they decide to use him in one of their whack job experiments and give their little protégé all the abilities of a spider.

What happens then? What would make a guy go from that to a vigilante? Why was he so reluctant to leave a body count if he trained as an assassin?

It didn't make any sense.

So maybe he was a civilian, maybe he was abducted or maybe he volunteered for money. For whatever reason he became the subject of an experimental program and boom, he's got all the abilities of a spider.

Where did he get his training? Did they train him? Were the people running the experiments trying to create a weapon but it didn't work out and he ran for it? Nah, that didn't make any sense. If he ran for it he'd be trying to lay low…but even if he wrecked the place and killed all the people involved in the experiments, why would he become a vigilante that deals with petty theft?

Unless his identity had something to do with it…

If SHIELD knew anything concerning Spider-Man's identity then it was above his paygrade and therefor none of his business. He found it hard to believe that they wouldn't run background checks on someone like the vigilante but then again…From what Clint had heard the man never left a body count, the petty criminals he'd intercepted were normally found tied up outside of the precinct. That could have earned him a few points.

That and the fact that the public practically swooned over him, SHIELD could definitely benefit from being allied with such a publicly influential figure. If Spider-Man somehow implied that them going behind his back and uncovering his identity would jeopardise that alliance…

Maybe the idea was more plausible than he'd previously thought.

**Wow, just WOW, all that feedback for the last chapter. I guess saying "Want more? REVIEW" after a cliffie is pretty good motivation.**

**Anyway, I'm sorry not much happened in this chapter. It was mostly build up…Actually the last chapter was also mostly build up too…But seriously I was gonna have the mission and everything in this chapter but I finished explaining what was going on and when I added Clint's opinions and everything…**

**Well next thing you know you've got a little under a two thousand word chapter!**

**Hope you all enjoyed regardless, I'll update again soon with Pt. 3**

**I WOULD say that will be the last chapter but hey, I never actually intended for this little…whatever to be more than one chapter. I just got a brain attack and the whole thing began to write itself**

**Sorry I'm procrastinating now aren't I?**

**LATER READERS!**


	7. Hawkeye's Return Pt 3

**So here it is everybody. I'm sorry for the wait but I got a longer one here for ya and although I won't make any promises I can't keep (even though those are the best kind) I'll try and make sure the wait for the next one isn't as long**

**Something tells me you guys might just track me down and hold me at gunpoint if I make you wait two weeks (fifteen days to be precise) to find out what happens…**

**Now enough foreshadowing, let the story begin!**

**Return of Hawkeye Pt. 3**

The plane journey was…to be honest it was kind of awkward. They sat in silence while Peter coaxed himself into unclenching his fists. He found the whole aircraft thing a little unsettling…Actually he hadn't been on a plane in…oh ten years give or take? Yeah having your parents die in a plane crash at a young age will kind of ruin the experience for you.

The mission – the word still made him feel like a kid pretending to be James Bond – seemed fairly straight forward although he knew better than most that things that seem simple in theory can get very complicated in practice.

Replacing a toxin with an antidote before a machine releases said toxin in the form of a gas that will then infect everybody in New York City, for example. It doesn't sound that complicated but throw in a few complications…Oh let's just say a giant mutant lizard, a few dozen armed cops and a time limit…

Point is Peter knew that the 'mission' could get complicated.

He made the conscious effort not to move his head when he glanced at 'Clint'. It was weird having a name to match the face. It had been…how many months since he'd fought the lizard? How long since a random stranger had found him bleeding out in a side street? How long since the stranger patched up his wounds with all the practice and calmness of a doctor?

If Clint remembered the incident then he hid it unbelievably well. Of course, the man was apparently a super spy, an assassin. If Peter didn't have faith in his 'spidey sense' (as he'd taken to calling it) he'd say that the man could probably kill him in the blink of an eye.

There was no reason to think that just because Clint saved his life once, he should trust the guy for a _second_.

But Peter couldn't shake the nagging thought in the back of his head.

_If you can't trust an Avenger then who _can_ you trust?_

Ah yes, the whole Avenger thing. To be honest he thought the archer looked familiar when they showed a slightly blurry video of the guy – Clint – walking away with the rest of the Avengers on the news. But believe it or not, when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk it makes the details a little hazy! Yes so matching a blurred memory of a guy to the distant image of another guy in the background of a blurry video (especially when you're not expecting to recognise the guy in the video) is not an easy thing to do.

Around ten minutes or so of flying in silence later, Clint finally spoke up.

"You know how to swim right?"

Peter looked over in surprise. The archer's expression hadn't change in the slightest but he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Not exactly what you'd call a professional but I'm not gonna drown in a swimming pool or anything if that's what you mean. Why? You're not plotting to throw me out of the plane are you?" Peter replied with a joking calmness he did not feel. Clint smiled slightly and shook his head.

"Nah…it's just that they say you can do everything a spider can. I wanted to see if you also had the weakness towards water," he explained then shook his head again. "We are about to launch an investigation on a _boat_ after all. Last thing I want is for us to end up overboard just in time for me to discover that you can't swim."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Yeah, that would suck, for me especially. Also if we _do_ go overboard I would like to make it clear that I will proceed under the assumption that your SHIELD training included a swim class of some description…in other words you're on your own," Peter added. Joking around, finally something he had experience with.

Clint raised both hands in a mock surrender.

"And I would like to make it clear that, if at some point you end up with an arrow through something important, you can't sue me. It was in the contract that you…probably didn't sign but are bound by anyway because you agreed to go on this mission."

There was a brief silence in which neither really knew what to say but they'd already broken the ice. Starting up a new conversation should be as simple as-

"When we land on the boat we'll be searching one floor at a time. We have two scanners but, while it may be faster for us to split up, we should stick together in case anything…unexpected happens. Try and stay out of sight as much as possible and if it turns out that this _is_ the boat loaded with the tech, contact the plane immediately and get out. SHIELD will make the necessary arrangements," Clint said quickly and pulled his bow from his back, unfolding it with an audible s_nap_.

Before Peter could ask what he was doing the pilot supplied an answer over the speaker.

"Target is in sight, please prepare for landing."

Peter stood up but felt awkward doing nothing since Clint seemed to be methodically checking all of his supplies so Peter pulled up his gloves and pretended to check over his fully functional web shooters.

God he felt unsteady, you'd think somebody who could climb walls wouldn't have a problem with standing up straight in a (all things considered) pretty smooth aircraft. He told himself that he was just nervous about the mission but the truth he refused to accept was he'd been in worse situations. Deep down he didn't fear the mission or the fact that he was working with a top secret government agency.

It was the plane.

_"I wanna come with you," Peter said in a small voice._

_"I know, son," his father replied with a forced smile. A hand ruffled his hair but Peter didn't complain. He just wanted to know why he wasn't allowed to go with them. Was it his fault? Should he have not told his dad about the broken door in the study? His father did seem worried when he saw all the scattered papers. Then he pulled out the drawer and popped out the false bottom like in one of the spy films Peter liked to watch with his mom._

_Maybe he was just staying with Auntie May and Uncle Ben while his mom and dad cleaned up the study? It was veeery messy in there when his dad told him to go and pack his things. Peter wasn't allowed in the study very much but sometimes his dad would let him inside and they'd play games on the computer. Or sometimes his dad would put all of the big thick folders in the desk drawers and they'd play cards on the desk. His dad had taught him to play things like Solitaire and Hearts and Go Fish._

_But that was before his dad got busy. Now he didn't have time to play games on the computer or move the big heavy files on his desk and build a house of cards or play Go Fish. Now he always seemed worried, he was always checking the burglar alarms before bed and he put a second lock on the front and back door._

_His mom was worried too, she didn't let Peter go out and play in the street with his friends anymore…_

_Peter craned his neck to glimpse his parents' faces one last time as they climbed into the car. His mom was crying, he could tell even though it was raining because her face was all red._

_The car sped off around the corner and Peter asked his Auntie May when his parents would be coming back to take him home, she said they would be back soon but he'd have to stay with them for a few days while they dealt with some grown up work problems._

_She changed her answer the next day and said he'd be staying at their house for a bit longer than they thought. Actually it was his Uncle Ben that told him that, his Auntie May was crying in the kitchen. She was staring at the TV but it was angled away from him so all Peter knew was that the News Reporter kept mentioning a plane crash._

_It took a while but eventually he learned to stop asking when his parents would be back to bring him home._

_When he was ten his Uncle Ben finally confirmed what Peter already knew. They were dead. His Uncle Ben was a little vague on the details. He just said that they passed on shortly after they asked Auntie May and Uncle Ben to look after him and that his parents had loved him very dearly and were both watching over him wherever they were._

_That happened on a Friday, the next day Peter asked his Auntie May to take him to the library so he could read the science books again but when he was there he walked straight past the rows upon rows of books just _waiting_ for him and he sat down at the small computer stand in the corner. The computers were bigger and slower than his dad's computer had been but they weren't that different really._

_The computer was already on and ready to go so he opened the search engine and looked up the names: 'Richard and Mary Parker'. It didn't take him long to find the news report._

_As his eyes bored into the picture of his mother and father (their bodies had never been recovered) his big brown eyes filled with tears. He sniffed and roughly wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Peter stared at the news article that told him all the tiny details about what had really happened to his parents all those years ago and a thought that he would later deem as selfish and disrespectful flitted through his mind._

_What if I'd gone with them?_

**Queue the Sudden and Unexpected Change of POV…Now:**

Clint waited for the faults to become apparent. He'd been watching Spider-Man closely since they'd first met and (although the mask made it a little tricky) he'd picked up a fair bit. The man seemed a little out of place amongst the agents and formal wear. He wasn't like the Cap who, despite the spangles, almost perfectly fit the SHIELD profile. Most agents, particularly the higher levels, accepted him as one of their own. He was a natural leader and it was more than just knowing how to handle a hostile situation…He had a way of earning the respect of most every individual in a room.

That being said, one of the few exceptions was if the room contained a particular individual by the name of Tony Stark who seemed incapable of respecting anybody.

Clint found Spider-Man's mask a little unnerving to be quite honest. In fact, everything about the man put him on edge. He seemed almost…normal. The skin tight red and blue suit aside of course.

He seemed completely at ease with the strangers around him, even somehow succeeding in making the ever nervous looking level one agents relax. He was too relaxed, too at ease. In Clint's extensive experience, sometimes agents w_ould_ adopt a carefree and cocky attitude to shield their nervous underbelly.

Spider-Man was _different_. Somehow this man's joking façade was genuine.

Clint didn't like that so much.

They boarded the plane and immediately the vigilante's attitude changed abruptly and without warning. His hands twitched like they wanted to curl into fists and he seemed to shrink into himself.

For a brief second Clint thought that maybe the man was suddenly hit with the realisation of what they were about to do but even with the mask Spider-Man was sending signals that told Clint everything he needed to know. The man's head tilted upwards fractionally as he took in the roof of the aircraft then tilted down as he studied the floor.

It wasn't a normal analysis of someone's surroundings. Spidey was focused on the plane's structure. His body language clearly stated uncertainty, doubt and wariness. Clint did his best not to blink in surprise when he realised what all this meant.

Was Spider-Man afraid of planes?

In a split second the entire scene was over. Spidey straightened up and took a seat, fussing with his seatbelt while Clint pretended to check over the supplies. When they took off Spider-Man's hands curled into tight fists that seemed to refuse to unfurl, confirming Clint's suspicions. He tried not to focus on the irony of a man that risked his neck by jumping off skyscrapers on a daily basis being afraid of flying.

Clint of course knew that often fears were built on personal experiences so he really couldn't judge. He was reluctant to let his guard down at first but approximately eleven minutes and thirty six seconds after they'd achieved lift off he struck up a conversation.

Spider-Man relaxed, easily continuing the conversation. It was clear from the beginning that he wasn't like a lower level agent as Clint had first expected. He wasn't cryptic or unsure of how much he was allowed to say.

He was _different_.

Clint wasn't sure what to think of that.

The plane turned and slowed ever so slightly but the tiny movement told Clint they were following standard protocol and were preparing to circle the target, staying a good distance before they had a good look at their surroundings. In two minutes the pilot will have completed the circuit and await further instructions.

Clint unfolded his bow making Spider-Man flinch when the _snap_ sounded through the contained area. It was clear that the vigilante was about to question Clint's actions when the pilot announced they would be preparing to land.

Spider-Man carefully stood up and swayed slightly. He put a hand on the wall to steady him and seemed to watch awkwardly as Clint checked through his supplies.

Clearly the man wasn't used to going on missions.

After a few moments Spider-Man rolled up his sleeve and began to fiddle with something on his wrist.

"You ready?" Clint asked. When the vigilante nodded he walked up to the wall separating them from the cockpit and hit a button on a control panel. The aircraft turned sharply and Spider-Man flinched. He didn't seem to notice that he was pressing himself up against the wall of the aircraft.

The back of the aircraft opened up and the smell of salty sea air filled the cabin. Spider-Man immediately relaxed and took a step towards the edge.

Clint subtly shifted his grip on his bow, telling his electronic quiver exactly what it needed to know. He pulled free an arrow and slid it into place without questioning the mechanics behind the selection process for a second. He trusted his bow and quiver to work correctly and they'd never given him a reason to have doubt.

The arrow Clint sent into the chest of a patrolling guard was blunt with a pressure sensitive trigger in the tip that activated an electrical charge. The man jerked and his legs collapsed beneath him. He wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

Spider-Man stiffened in surprise but he knew the guard was still breathing so said nothing.

Clint pressed a button on the ceiling and a compartment popped open. The archer pulled free the end of a long and sturdy looking yet surprisingly thin black cable attached to the roof of the aircraft and clipped it to a hook on the back of his suit.

Spider-Man mimicked his actions, pulling free the end of a second cable but he didn't have a hook on his uniform to secure the cable to, the vigilante didn't seem to notice.

Without further delay, Clint jumped out of the back of the aircraft and for a single fleeting instant the cable didn't catch it. Then the line pulled him back a fraction and the archer sprung upwards. There was a quiet whirring noise as Clint was slowly lowered towards the dot in the blackness far below him.

The wind whipped against his face bringing with it a familiar sting. He couldn't help but smile at the familiar soaring sensation coursing through him. It was both peaceful and exhilarating to be suspended so high up in the air.

"Great view isn't it?" Spider-Man asked. Clint looked up to see the vigilante hanging upside down almost in a sitting position. His legs were folded above his head while his arms were fully extended, effortlessly holding onto the thin strand of cable. It occurred to Clint that, despite being small in build, the man had a lot of upper body strength.

Before they knew it the deck was rising up to meet them. Spider-Man performed a perfectly executed flip maybe ten feet above the ground and landed in a crouch. Somehow Clint didn't get the feeling that the man was showing off.

They moved towards the door leading to the lower levels while Clint swiftly pulled the scanner from his belt. Thankfully the device didn't emit shrill beeping sounds or anything else that could alert somebody to their position. It had a simple display screen that showed the gamma levels were completely normal.

Clint was slightly unnerved by how quiet Spider-Man was. The archer strained to hear something, anything. Be it the faint sound of shallow breath or the steady rhythm of foot on ground. The archer found himself glancing over his shoulder to check the vigilante was still there more often than he should have.

What was SHIELD _thinking_ anyway? Spider-Man wasn't an agent, sure he could (apparently) handle the stealth aspect but what about when he got bored or lost focus? What about when the vigilante got cocky or decided he could get the mission done in half the time if he went off by himself? He wasn't used to SHIELD procedure, it didn't seem like he was used to working with a partner and he had a cocktail of spidery powers that-

SHIELD probably knew all about. His superiors wouldn't just team him up with an unpredictable element that could easily get them both killed. He was just overreacting.

Clint glanced over his shoulder and saw that Spider-Man wasn't behind him.

Or maybe he wasn't.

There was a muffled sound so faint that Clint's sensitive ears barely picked up on it. With the scanner tucked safely in his belt, the archer pulled back his bow string with a stun arrow already in place and turned a corner expecting to see a guard patrolling the lower decks. Instead he saw…nothing?

He hadn't imagined the sound…It had definitely come from the hallway in front of him which meant-

Spider-Man dropped down and landed in a crouch mere feet from where Clint was staying. Almost immediately the vigilante straightened up.

"Sorry, heard something up ahead and came to check it out. Just a guard I think," Spider-Man stated casually. Clint reluctantly lowered his bow but left the arrow in place.

"What did you do with him?" Clint asked in a low voice. He got the feeling that behind the mask his 'partner' was raising an eyebrow as he slowly raised a hand and pointed upwards. Clint looked up and saw a large man secured to the ceiling by-

"Right, you've got webs...Isn't that a tell-tale sign that you've been here though?" Clint asked hesitantly.

"Nah...Well, not unless they find him fairly soon. Those webs will dissolve in a couple of hours and we'll be long gone by then right?"

Clint didn't reply, instead his attention was caught by the scanner that had lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Oh shi-" he began when he heard a clang and looked down in time to see a metal cylinder roll along the ground towards him.

"GET DOWN!" Clint roared and threw himself to the ground as the grenade blew.


	8. Hawkeye's Return Pt 4

**First of all I know I said I'd try and make sure this chapter would be uploaded in less than two weeks (fifteen days to be precise) and now here it is over a month later.**

**I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit out of practice but writers block got the best of me and this clunky lump of dialogue is my way around it so I can get on with the 'Big Plan'.**

**I hope you enjoy regardless and be sure to leave a review! I live for 'em**

**Hawkeye's Return Pt. 4:**

Clint let out a groan and immediately noted the absence of the hard floor that had been beneath him what felt like a moment before. The lack of constant movement confirmed his suspicions. He wasn't on the boat anymore.

The archer opened his eyes and saw plain white walls accompanied by the stench of disinfectant. Despite the room seeming fairly unremarkable, he recognised it almost immediately. Clint had been in the SHIELD medical facility enough times.

Knowing where he was brought some relief, knowing he was within a SHIELD base made it even better.

At that moment a doctor walked into the room without even glancing at him.

"How are you feeling, Agent Barton?" she asked calmly.

"Fine," Clint said and sat up. His head swam and a steady pounding near his temple suddenly made itself present, making him falter.

"You might want to avoid sitting up too quickly," she added pointlessly.

"Yeah, I got that thanks," Clint muttered as he leaned back once more. "What happened with the mission?"

The woman shrugged and sat down at a desk before tapping a few commands into the computer before her.

"You made it out alive obviously. They don't exactly give the medical staff rundowns of classified missions. From what I understand your partner on the mission asked to be informed when you woke up. You've been out for a few hours so I don't know if he's still here. I can call down and check if you want," she added.

"Uh, sure…I doubt he'd still be here though," Clint admitted. He barely knew the guy, why would he care for the archer's wellbeing? The doctor picked up the phone on the desk and spoke quickly before she hung up.

"He's on his way."

Clint didn't let his surprise reach his face. He just gave a stiff nod and winced when it made the pain in his head spike. By the time the doctor had checked for a concussion Spider-Man had apparently cleared security. The woman shot the vigilante a curious glance before she left the room.

It was clear from the start that he didn't really know what to say so Clint started up the conversation.

"What happened?"

Spider-Man shifted his weight uncomfortably before replying.

"You were uh…Too close to the grenade. Fortunately you hit the floor before it went off so you avoided most of the shrapnel but I guess the blast must have knocked you out. There were only a couple guys and they weren't exactly well trained…Well, I managed to call our ride so it all turned out fine I guess."

"Uh huh and how did I get out if I was unconscious?" Clint asked.

"He carried you," a voice replied from the medical room door. Spider-Man didn't as much as flinch despite having his back to the door at the time. The vigilante turned calmly to face their visitor, incidentally giving Clint an unblocked view of the doorway. Director Fury was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.

"We successfully seized the boat but we also decided to run back through some of the security footage. It seems you somewhat glossed over the fact that you took on a total of seventeen people while trying to get yourself and Agent Barton to the aircraft."

Spider-Man didn't reply although he seemed to shrink into himself as the Director continued.

"Needless to say all of them were armed and more than willing to kill you yet you still managed to…subdue every one of them. All while carrying an unconscious agent on your back. Am I missing anything?" Fury asked.

"I, uh, think that probably about covers it," Spider-Man replied.

"Wait for me in my office. I trust you remember where it is."

Spider-Man darted out of the room faster than Clint thought possible. Fury waited a moment before addressing Clint.

"You did well, Agent Barton."

Clint frowned, "I- But sir I was unconscious for most of the mission…I could have gotten both Spider-Man and myself killed."

"SHIELD wants Spider-Man to be a secure ally but for this to work he needs to trust us and we need to be able to trust him. Who knows, maybe one day he'll prove worthy of an Avengers status? Spider-Man doesn't trust SHIELD, Agent Barton. That doesn't mean he can't trust you." Without another word Fury turned on his heel and left Clint to ponder.

**Peter's POV:**

Shit, he'd somehow managed to piss off a government freaking agency.

Alright, so maybe he should have gone into more detail when they asked him what happened but can you blame him for not wanting to tell them _exactly_ what he was capable of…It wasn't a big deal though right?

Director Fury walked in and sat down behind the desk opposite him.

"We want you to become a SHIELD agent," Nick Fury said, his face a void of emotion. Peter blinked beneath his mask. Suddenly his mouth felt very dry.

"Come again?" he asked carefully.

"We understand you feel strongly about keeping your identity under wraps. Normally this would be an issue but given the circumstances...You've proven yourself an invaluable asset and despite overwhelming odds you completed your mission without receiving any serious injuries. We are not suggesting that this should be a full time arrangement and you can continue assisting the police. Just be our backup when we come up against an enemy that cannot be taken down by more...traditional means. Super villains, as I believe the media calls them. You could help save a lot of lives Spider-Man."

Peter hesitated, the arrangement didn't sound...unreasonable. But he had Aunt May to think of. Calling her to say he was spending the night at a friend's house would work once or twice but soon she'd realise that he was 'staying the night at a friend's house' and coming back with unexplained injuries. She worried about him enough as it was, hell he wasn't sure if her heart would be able to take it if he died! No, he couldn't do it. He couldn't put Aunt May through all that.

"Naturally we'd be paying you per mission, this is an estimate of what you'd be earning and of course being a SHIELD agent comes with certain perks," Fury stated and handed him a sheet of paper. Peter's eyes widened as he took in the information before him. With this he could easily cover their bills for the month and still have some left over.

This changed everything.


	9. New Faces

**First off, we are unbelievably close to reaching 100 reviews. So I know there's a fair possibility that we will have reached that goal by the time I post this but… I dunno, just got me thinking about how awesome you lot are…and it felt like a good time to give that annoying thank you message that nobody can be bothered to read.**

**ANNNNNYYYYYWHO**

**Enjoy**

They had a good system.

Peter had a burner phone. No GPS, dirt cheap, easily replaced. When SHIELD needed to call him in they sent him a text and he made his way over to a prearranged location. When whatever mission they had for him was complete they paid him in cash. Simple!

_Thwip_

The missions were less simplistic. They were generally brutal, complicated and involved some pretty dodgy characters but Peter was confident that he could handle it.

_Thwip_

The only problem was figuring out how to explain the money to Aunt May. She knew that he wasn't earning all of the money just from selling pictures to the Bugle and she'd confront him sooner or later…

Peter shoved thoughts of Aunt May aside and returned his attention to the ground. He watched calmly as the concrete rose up to meet him and shot off a perfectly aimed web.

_Thwip_

He performed a somersault in the air and landed on the rooftop in a crouch.

"You took your time getting here," Clint said. Peter shrugged and straightened out of his crouch before turning around.

"Well, gee, Featherhead what can I say? The idea of 'training' with you on my day off doesn't exactly fill me with joy."

Clint shook his head in mock disappointment. "Hey, this isn't that crappy little room in the main base. This is the _real_ training facility where all the big guys hang out. Trust me, you're gonna recognise a few faces."

Peter opened his mouth to reply but Clint was already walking across the roof to an emergency access door.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

The archer turned back and smirked at him before pressing his palm against a panel on the door. There was a click and the door swung open.

"See for yourself."

xxx

The training room in the SHIELD base consisted of a handful of punching bags, a treadmill and a few crashmats. The training _facility_ had an entire floor devoted to hand on hand combat.

Peter whistled through his teeth as they passed two agents going head to head in the boxing style ring positioned in the centre of a large room. The first appeared to have a physical advantage. The man was quite broad in build with heavily muscled arms and a buzz cut while the woman he was going up against was fairly small with short red hair.

Less than a minute later the man was out cold.

"You went easy on him, Natasha," Clint called out. The woman smirked at him before she stepped forwards and dragged the larger man to the edge of the ring.

"That's the Black Widow," Clint informed him as they walked.

"Wait, Black Widow as in the _Avenger_?" Peter asked incredulously.

"That's the one," he replied casually as they passed into the next room which was separated into sections, each one consisting of various training equipment including several rows of punching bags.

"Hey, Steve," Clint greeted a man with short blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Clint…didn't expect to see you over here. Normally you're staking out the obstacle course right?" he asked with a knowing smile.

"Not here to train, Cap. Just giving Spidey the tour," Clint replied drawing the man's attention to Peter.

"Steve Rogers," the man said and extended a hand. Peter hesitated only a moment.

"Spider-Man," he replied and shook hands with Captain freaking America. Would telling Gwen about this be considered illegal? Peter figured it was worth the risk.

"The New York vigilante, I guess the rumours about you working for SHIELD are true," Steve commented. Peter tried not to focus on the fact that Captain America knew who he was.

"Try to take it easy on those punching bags Cap," Clint said with a smirk.

"Only if you try to take it easy on the targets in the shooting range," the legendary super soldier from world war two replied before walking back towards the rows of punching bags.

"Please tell me we're not about to walk into the Hulk or something," Peter said flatly.

"Nah, he doesn't hang out here," Clint said with a shrug. Peter couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

xxx

Everything was fine for about an hour and a half. They finished the tour, Peter aced the obstacle course in record time and he watched as Clint destroyed a shooting range. Then Clint made an excuse and left for about ten minutes before returning with (what Peter would later swear was) an evil smile on his face.

"Hey Spidey," he said, not even attempting to act casual

"What did you do?" Peter deadpanned.

"What makes you think I've done something?" he asked casually.

"The stupid grin on your face, now what did you do and how badly am I going to want to kill you?"

The corners of Clint's mouth twitched downwards in a very forced frown. "I admit to nothing."

"Bird breathe, own up before I web you to a target in the shooting range," Peter said slowly. Clint let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine, I kind of…accidentally promised someone that you'd spar with them."

"Okay…"

"You kind of met him at the beginning of the tour."

"Please tell me you're not implying what I think you're implying."

"He was by the punching bags, remember?"

"You better be messing with me."

"Blonde hair, blue eyes, commonly seen wearing a star spangled outfit."

"Ha, ha, very funny Clint now knock it off. Joke's over."

"Afraid not," the archer said. The evil grin was back. Peter mentally counted down from ten.

"Please tell me you didn't actually promise _Captain America_ that I would spar with him."

"Look, he asked me if I wanted to go a few rounds in the ring! What else was I supposed to do? Poor guy has to resort to wrecking punching bags on a daily basis because no agent in their right mind would willingly volunteer to go up against Captain America," Clint retorted.

"So you said _I'd_ willingly go up against him?!"

"Well you can go track him down and tell him you've changed your mind."

"But I never agreed to it in the- You know what? Fine, let's just get this over with."

"I'm glad you think that because you're meeting him in the ring in ten minutes."

"CLINT!"

xxx

Peter shot Clint a deadly glare that the mask unfortunately made pointless as he stood in the ring. Opposite him the star spangled hero rolled his shoulder and slipped his arm through the leather straps on the back of his famous weapon of choice. It was made almost entirely out of Vibranium, the rarest metal on the planet. It was stronger than steel, a third of the weight, vibration absorbent and the object that would more than likely be responsible for Spider-Man's tragic death.

If he survived this he was gonna _kill_ Clint.

Black Widow stood up and walked to the edge of the ring. God she was so quiet Peter had forgotten she was even there.

"You ready Cap?" she asked, a hint of a smile emerging. He returned the smile and that seemed to be the only reply she needed.

"Alright boys, try not to kill each other. You hit the mat and you're not back up by the count of five then the fight is over."

Right, no killing the living World War 2 legend, got it.

Somebody must have flicked a switch or pressed a button or something because the large screen that covered the back wall flickered to life and a huge red 5 appeared.

He could do this. He had increased thought process and he didn't even know the limits to his own strength. But he could hold the weight of a car while hanging off a bridge which made him pretty freaking strong. Then he had his crazy reflexes and his weird spidey sense…

4

God, he was dead meat. The man across from him was a trained professional and Peter hadn't forgotten that he wasn't the only one with superhuman abilities. The difference was this man knew what he was doing. Unlike Peter, Steve Rogers knew the limits of his own strength, how hard he could push himself.

3

Okay so what did he actually _know_ about Captain America? He either didn't age or he was some sort of time traveller, at this point neither would really come as a surprise. Of course, this information wouldn't exactly help Peter defeat the man in a fight either. So from the footage he'd seen from the Battle of New York the guy had super strength and agility. He almost definitely had some increased stamina thrown into the mix. Again, none of this really helped him.

2

He was Spider-Man! He'd defeated a giant mutant lizard. Surely he could take down one guy dressed like the American Flag. Even if he did almost die fighting the Lizard…and technically only stopped his insane plan by releasing the antidote. Something told him there wouldn't be a sneaky escape clause this time around.

1

Just stay alert and let your reflexes do the fighting for you. It's worked before right? Right, everything would be fine. He was quick, he could move first and catch the man by surprise…It may not give him much of an edge but it was something. Okay, deep breaths. He could do this.

FIGHT

Peter darted forwards before the super soldier could make his move. He gripped the shield in both hands and shoved it aside with some effort and sent an elbow into Steve's ribs but the man didn't even flinch. Right, increased durability and super strength sort of came together. He'd need to put a little more force into his punches if he wanted to provide more than a mere annoyance.

That little tingly feeling at the base of his skull came alive and he ducked as something (presumably a fist) passed overhead. He could not, however, quite avoid the shield that hit him square between the shoulder blades.

Peter hit the floor and immediately rolled away from his opponent before he came up in a crouch. Damn that guy hit him hard. His back would no doubt host a brightly coloured bruise by morning. As if his normal array of injuries weren't enough.

The vigilante leaped forwards and Steve lifted his shield but Peter didn't stop. He hit the metal and immediately sprung upwards and over his opponent. Before Steve could turn around Peter planted a solid kick to the man's upper back and followed up with a blow to the backs of his knees.

The super soldier hit the ground. Peter sent a web to secure him but Steve was protected by that damn hunk of metal.

Peter's spidey sense prickled and he wasn't entirely sure why but he was leaping into the air. He performed a perfect flip and glimpsed the shield passing through the space he'd occupied just a moment ago.

If Peter wanted to win this 'friendly sparring match' the Frisbee had to go.

Steve had gotten back to his feet and was ready in a defensive stance. Peter darted forwards, hands outstretched and clung to the shield with his sticky fingers. He yanked it off his opponents arm and before Steve could realise what he was doing, launched it upwards into the air and at the perfect moment sent a web after it.

There was a dull clang as metal collided with ceiling (probably with a little more force than necessary) and a satisfying _thwap_ as the spurt of webbing found its target.

Steve wasted no time dwelling over how he was supposed to get his beloved shield off the ceiling. He stepped forwards, closing the space between the two in no time and threw a punch aimed at Peter's jaw. Of course the vigilante's spidey sense didn't let that happen. He ducked at the last moment and threw his fist into Steve's ribs.

His opponent doubled over but he was recovering too quickly. Peter still wasn't hitting hard enough. Sooner or later the Captain would get a lucky shot. He couldn't let this opportunity pass.

Peter uttered a silent apology as he slammed his knee into Steve's forehead with enough force to knock an ordinary man out cold. The super soldier hit the floor in a daze but somehow he still wasn't freaking unconscious.

The vigilante tapped the sensors in his palms and let off twin streams of webbing. Only then, when his opponent was secured to the floor in a cocoon of bio cable, did he let himself relax. Peter was breathing heavily, his back still ached dully and his knuckles felt bruised. Not bad considering he'd just-

Taken on Captain America…He'd _beaten_ Captain America…In a fight…

He turned around to see Clint staring at him in stunned silence. Next to him the Black Widow raised an eyebrow. If he hadn't known better he'd have said she looked impressed.

"Spidey…" Clint finally stuttered. "You just beat up a ninety five year old."

xxx

He sat in silence next to the old style boxing ring. There were no windows in the room but he knew it was dark outside. The world always looks different at night. During the day dark spaces look like corners, trying desperately to evade the light that envelops the world…but at night it's the other way around. It's like the light is doing everything it possibly can to fend off the darkness that swallows everything in its path.

"Are you going to update your report?" the woman sitting next to him finally asked.

"I don't see why I should, we haven't witnessed anything SHIELD doesn't already know," Clint replied.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "You seriously expect me to believe that SHIELD is aware Spider-Man can defeat Captain America in a fight?"

"They know he has increased strength, speed, agility, reflexes, stamina-" Clint listed before she cut him off.

"They know he's a potential threat, not that he has the capability to take down an Avenger in hand to hand combat."

"They know he has the capability to take _me_ down and I'm an Avenger."

"Clint-"

"Natasha!"

"They need to know," she said calmly.

"He's a good guy, Natasha. He's not going to wake up on the wrong side of bed one morning and decide to take over the world."

"Anyone can be compromised, Barton. You know that better than most."

She hadn't meant it in the 'New York was all your fault' way and Clint knew that. But it didn't stop him from wincing slightly.

"We tell SHIELD and the deal is off. They'll want to know who he is, how he got his powers, his limitations, his weaknesses."

"Fury is fair and there's enough evidence to support your claim that Spider-Man isn't a threat," Natasha reasoned.

"But it won't be his call in the end. It will be the council's and they'll say it's not worth the risk."

Natasha paused for a moment. It wasn't a hesitation, merely a break in conversation for her to evaluate the situation.

"Why are you protecting him?"

Clint thought about that for a moment.

"He saved my life, Nat. You know what owing a debt is like."


	10. Leap Without Faith

**I WANTED to get this out to you sooner but I finally got a new laptop which is awesome! Also proved a bit of a setback in the schedule but it's all good now and I will hopefully (again no promises) get the next one out soon.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Big thanks to Zharlee as always for letting me throw ideas at you when I'm brain storming**

The 'five o'clock shift' was normally either the calmest or the most hectic of Peter's daily patrols. For one most muggers and drug dealers and the like aren't stupid enough to commit their crimes in broad daylight.

Despite this, every now and then a lone idiot would pop up. The counter argument he'd heard numerous times was that most vigilante's patrol at night so the risk of getting caught by a 'crazy in a mask' was lower. Peter liked to point out that if they didn't deal in illegal activities they wouldn't have to worry about vigilantes at all.

Idiotic muggers aside, midday was prime time for bank robberies…and the occasional super villain attack. Peter got the feeling they liked attacking in broad daylight so more people would be there to see their plan in action. Villains always had such needy egos.

So the five o'clock shift tended to be Peter's favourite because it was either a few hours of him lounging around on rooftops, alternating between warming himself under the baking sun and cooling off in the shade, or it was a few hours of him stopping whatever grand scheme the local criminals had planned out. It always seemed to be one or the other, no in between. And that day it was most definitely the latter.

Two bank robberies, four muggings, a drug deal gone wrong and a group of six armed guys attempting to illegally transport a crocodile later Peter half sat half collapsed on a rooftop. He was in fairly good shape, cuts and bruises mostly. He'd been lucky, that pesky reptile's teeth had barely grazed him anyway.

He pulled out his phone and checked the time, 6:30. Right, so one last circuit and if nothing came up he was going home to crash for about an hour before he ate and left for the night shift. But he was allowed to sit down for like five minutes first though, right? He'd certainly earned it.

Peter gave a content sigh and let his legs hang over the edge of the roof. He'd never been especially bothered by heights but after the spider bite they'd become something of a reassurance. He felt invincible up there, out of reach from the world.

He watched the cars crawl along like insects far beneath him.

For a short while he was happy. He didn't have to think about how many people he failed to save during those few precious hours of sleep he got each night or how he was going to make enough money to cover their bills that month. For a short while, he was allowed to just sit on the roof and let his mind go blank as he stared at the street below. Finally he gave a drawn out sigh before he pushed himself off the roof and let himself fall.

Sometimes he chose to fall headfirst and streak towards the ground at dangerous speeds but this time he spread out like he'd seen skydivers do on TV. It wasn't the first time he'd chosen this method, it was slower and not nearly as graceful as a nosedive but in that moment, with the air rushing past him and the ground approaching at a steady pace, he didn't care.

Well, he didn't care until his spidey sense came alive in the base of his skull and he barely had enough time to look up in alarm before something crashed into him.

The air left his lungs and his ribs screamed in protest. It took him a moment to realise that he wasn't falling anymore, he was flying. He caught a flash of red material but before he could focus on…well, much of anything, he was dropped rather unceremoniously on a roof. The second he made impact he rolled and came up in a defensive crouch before taking in the sight before him.

A man in silver armour with a billowing red cape attached to his back by plates on his shoulders watched him from the edge of the roof. The light breeze was playing with his long blonde hair and the light reflected brilliantly off the…hammer he held in his hand.

"Are you alright, young Midgardian?" he asked with genuine worry in his booming voice.

There was a moment of silence that stretched on for an uncomfortable period of time but Peter was having a difficult time forming words. So he just stayed where he was, with one arm wrapped around his middle where his ribs still ached dully.

"Uhh…Did you just…Did you just _catch_ me?" Peter stuttered as he slowly straightened up out of his crouch. Damn, of all the times to get stage fright.

"Indeed, from what I understand of Midgardian biology the damage sustained when falling is great," the man replied with an exaggerated nod. Peter felt like an idiot for not recognising him sooner but in his defence, his brain still felt a little muddled.

He took a second to collect his thoughts. Sure Clint had mentioned the 'Mighty Thor' once or twice but he'd neglected to go into detail about the actual Norse God part and instead focused on retelling the story of how the archer had ended up spending a little over an hour attempting to explain the microwave to him.

"Uh, yeah. Right. See I uh…I'm not a civilian…I'm Spider-Man," he said slowly. A confused expression crossed the man's face.

"Spider…man?" he repeated. A thought suddenly dawned on Peter. Clint had said the guy was essentially an alien.

"You know what a spider is right?"

If not then this explanation could easily get a thousand times more complicated.

Thor's face brightened in understanding. "Indeed! Son of Stark once spoke of the fearsome beasts you call 'spiders'. Things of many eyes and many legs but little body."

Why? Why did Thor of all people have to see him jump off a rooftop? Why couldn't it have been the Hulk? That encounter probably would have been less painful than this.

"They're not really _that_ fearsome, big guy. Spiders are these tiny little creatures that are…sometimes dangerous but for the most part they're perfectly harmless. They just freak a lot of people out. Something about the way they move," Peter said quickly. He hoped this explanation would be enough to satisfy his curiosity but if the frown on Thor's face said anything, Peter wasn't getting off that easy.

"So you claim to be both not entirely fearsome beast _and_ man?" he asked with a doubtful expression. Peter supressed a frustrated sigh and opened his mouth but his attention was snatched away from Thor.

"No way," he muttered, the mask concealing the fact that his eyes went wide as a sound like an engine made itself present. His spidey sense hadn't quite calmed down after running (or falling) into Thor but now the faint prickle that predicted the possibility of danger had progressed into something closer to pins and needles.

There was an audible _thunk_ as Ironman hit the roof, leaving a sizable dent in its surface. He stood up without even glancing at the crater beneath his feet and the mask flipped up revealing the billionaire inside.

"Point Break, if you didn't want to help Bruce move the piano you could have just said so and he would have asked Steve instead. Smashing through the window on the seventy ninth floor really wasn't necessary," Tony Stark said casually. Tony Stark. THE Tony Stark said casually.

"My apologies, friend Tony. The Man of Spiders appeared in need of assistance," Thor stated. Peter wanted to fade out of existence then and there.

"Man of Spiders?" Tony said questioningly and turned slightly to look at Peter. "Ah, Spider-Man. You're the web swinger, right?"

Peter gave a stiff nod, thankful that his mask hid the blush that was creeping across his face.

"I, uh…There was a bit of a misunderstanding," he muttered.

"Well, wouldn't be the first time. He's still working on the whole 'understanding out culture' thing," the billionaire said dismissively. "So, Spider-Man, you've met the muscle of the team. Wanna meet the rest?"


	11. Announcement

Don't stop reading. Seriously, I know it's not a chapter but I have some important things I need to say. I could probably go on for a couple thousand words, just talking about how sorry I am and how I never planned the Hiatus. I really could. Instead I'm going to try to keep this relatively short and sweet.

I wrote most of this fic when I was on vacation. I had plans set out in my head and countless ideas and then school started to rain on my parade. To this day I am in awe of how many reviews, follows and favourites I have received and it crushes me to think I may have disappointed any of you guys.

So you've probably guessed from the rather depressing start that I'm not going to continue this story BUT I have decided to put it up for adoption so you guys (hopefully) will get a little bit of closure. Please PM me if you're interested. I'm willing to brain storm and help with the planning or whatever you may need. I hope that nobody is too disappointed by this turn of events but I hate it when writers abandon stories so...this is the only real solution I could come up with.

Sorry again, consultingsorcererof221B


	12. Adoption

Greetings Readers! I am pleased to inform you that this fic has been adopted by the extremely talented FinallShadoww. This fic is up on their account right now! So go my readers, follow their fic and kick back and enjoy the ride.

Well, I guess this means that this is the last chapter I'll be posting in this fic. So I guess I'll start by saying: Huge thank you to Zharlee, without you I never would have gotten this far in this fic. I thank all of those that reviewed regularly on my fic, all of the people that followed and even favourited. I honestly never dreamed that this fic would become so popular and I hope you all like the direction it will take!

consultingsorcererof221B signing off


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